Heimdall tightened his grip on the collar of your garment, which was soaked and stained with blood, as was your face, tinged with the same vital substance that drained from your wounds. Your eyes, half closed, showed the pain as you forced a grimace of resistance, bringing your trembling hands to his wrists in a desperate attempt to push him off. Heimdall had been ordered to end your life and that of your brother, Atreus. As the elder sister, you had accompanied Atreus to Gladsheim, but upon leaving that place, Heimdall wasted no time in seizing the first opportunity to destroy you. From the moment he saw you, he always harbored a deep antipathy toward you and a distrust that only grew with time. And so, you found yourself trapped in this desperate situation.

Night loomed over you, with the moonlight filtering through the leaves of the trees, creating eerie shadows on the ground. There you lay, on the cold ground, with Heimdall hovering over you, his purple eyes glowing brightly, piercing yours with a blood-chilling intensity. You were gravely wounded, you knew you were not the best fighter. Heimdall, scowling, held his fists tightly clenched, still covered with your blood as he prepared to finish what he had begun.